Spring Blossom by Jill Metcalf Read Free Book Online

vibrancy was missing.
    Alastair settled back in his chair, crossing
his knees as his gaze traveled quickly over his guest in a like
inspection. Hunter hand changed little; he had matured, perhaps but
the man was as strong and fit-looking as ever, and his features had
become almost aristocratic. The one change Alastair did note was a
certain sadness in the dark eyes; or perhaps it was something that
came with maturity. “All is right with you?” he asked.
    Hunter smiled. “Fine, Alastair. And
you?”
    The older man nodded, smiling ruefully, but
Hunter had an odd sense that something was not at all right with
his friend.
    “Times are good, and my daughters are
driving me mad,” Alastair said lightly, belying Hunter’s concerns.
“All appears right with the world.”
    Hunter laughed at the derisiveness in his
friend’s voice. “The girls cannot be as bad as that. They are
practically grown by now.”
    Alastair leaned forward, as if in
conspiracy. “Trust me, my friend; if you ever have daughters, you
should know that they become more difficult with each passing
year.”
    Chuckling, Hunter said, “I’ll remember
that.”
    Settling back, Alastair studied the younger
man. “Perhaps you do have a daughter or two by now? I failed to
ask.”
    Hunter shook his head.
    “No sons? No daughters? A wife,
perhaps?”
    “No.”
    “Well, your time will come, without
doubt.”
    Obviously they were both skirting the issue
of Maggie.
    Suddenly Alastair’s tone changed abruptly as
another thought struck and he knew he had to speak on the matter.
“I was sorry to learn of your mother’s passing, Hunter. She was a
fine woman.”
    Hunter sat forward, studying the glass that
rested loosely between his cupped hands. “She was a remarkable
woman, and I am not the only one who misses her.” He straightened
then, determined to lighten the mood. “I believe her only regret
was that I had not married and given her grandchildren.” He smiled
at the thought, for he and his mother had engaged in some heated
discussions on the matter. But all of Rebecca’s attempts at
matchmaking had failed, for Hunter had been too intent on his work
and improving their lot in life.
    “And who is minding your affairs while you
gallivant around the country?” Alastair asked.
    More relaxed now, Hunter sat back. “A good
and very old friend of my parents. You may have heard them mention
Jason Longstreet. He managed the farm for Mother for years while I
was in England. He stayed on after I returned home, at my
request.”
    “And you’ve waited too long to visit us
again,” Alastair said sincerely.
    “It’s been three years. I recall our last
discussion. We agreed…” Hunter stopped in mid-sentence, suddenly
aware that Alastair had paled and seemed to be having difficulty
breathing. Alarmed, he set his glass aside and sat forward in his
chair. “Are you all right, man?”
    But Alastair was shaking his head, holding
up one hand to signal that Hunter should remain seated. “Fine,” he
said, forcing himself to remain calm. “It’s just that…perhaps I
should have written to you, but…” Looking directly into the young
man’s eyes, he blurted guiltily, “You will find Margaret greatly
changed, Hunter.”
    Frowning, Hunter reached for his snifter of
brandy again. “I expected her to change, Alastair. She hadn’t
reached her sixteenth birthday when I last visited.”
    Alastair was now looking decidedly
uncomfortable.
    When the man did not immediately respond,
Hunter prodded, “I expect Maggie has become a very beautiful young
woman by now.” But his smile disappeared when Alastair looked at
him sadly.
    “Indeed she has,” he said softly. “Almost as
beautiful as her dear mother. But…” He took a hearty pull of brandy
before staring directly at Hunter again. “I believe I should warn
you; Margaret was involved in an…accident of sorts, about a year
ago.”
    Hunter was growing concerned about the
direction this conversation was taking,